


Helpline Operator

by RainyTea



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Anal Fingering, CEO Victor, Chef Yuuri, Dirty Talk, Dom!Yuuri, Dom/sub Undertones, Light Dom/sub, M/M, Miscommunication, Misunderstandings, Mutual Masturbation, Mutual Pining, Orgasm Delay/Denial, Phone Sex, Phone Sex Work, Pining, Portland food cart culture, Secret Identity, Sex Work, Sub!Victor, Vicchan Lives, Yuri!!! on Ice Shit Bang 2017, an overabundance of Portland references, cameos from lots of other characters, it's all pretty mild though, past sports injury, pretty much everybody gets a cameo at some point, so much pining it should be set in a forest, that's not really relevant to the story but it's important to me
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-09-01
Updated: 2018-02-03
Packaged: 2018-12-22 07:52:38
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 10,198
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11963004
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RainyTea/pseuds/RainyTea
Summary: After a spectacular failure in the restaurant industry, dime-a-dozen chef Yuuri sinks all of his savings into a food cart, Food-Topia Katsuki. However, he’s still having trouble making ends meet. That’s when Phichit suggests that Yuuri take on a side job. “It’ll be easy,” Phichit says. “All you’ve got to do is talk on the phone.”Meanwhile Victor, CEO and top designer of Portland’s hottest up-and-coming sports shoe company is tired, stressed, and out of inspiration. That’s when his friend and director of marketing Chris gives him the number of a phone sex line. “When you call, ask for Eros,” Chris says.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I have to apologize that this isn't the complete story. By the time I (finally) got started on it I realized that I underestimated how long it would be. It'll probably end up being two, maybe three chapters and I should have it done by the end of the week.
> 
> I should note that I know next to nothing about the phone sex industry, sports shoe design, the restaurant industry, or business in general. The only thing I know about food carts is I like eating at them. A lot.
> 
> Special thanks to [akemi-hy](https://akemi-hy.tumblr.com/) for the original prompt!
> 
> Awesome NSFW artwork by [SoulzTheYoshi](http://soulztheyoshi.tumblr.com/post/164842396880/this-is-my-1st-submission-for-the-yoi-shit-bang)!

"Phichit, I am not taking a picture of a customer." 

"Aww, c'mon Yuuri, I want to see just how hot this guy is that you're mooning over."

"I'm not mooning. I just said he was cute, is all."

"Please. How long have I known you? Right now you're leaning on the counter, ogling the guy."

Yuuri jumps back from the cart window, where he was doing just that. "I am not  _ ogling _ ." Phichit snorts at that. "Okay," Yuuri admits, "maybe I'm ogling a little. But the guy really is gorgeous. And his dog's adorable." Said dog is currently sitting up on his hind legs, begging for treats as his owner eats lunch at one of the picnic tables. Hot guy (and oh, how Yuuri wishes he asked for customers' names instead of giving them numbers for their orders) is clearly trying to be firm and not give in to his dog's cute antics, but he relents and feeds the pup some bites of chicken. Yuuri can't help but smile.

"So ask to take a picture of his dog, and make sure he's in the shot as well!" Phichit says.

"Oh yeah, because that wouldn't be creepy at all, right?"

"Please. People love showing off their dogs. I bet he'd be delighted!" Phichit laughs. "And then you can show him the pictures of Vicchan on your phone, and chat about dogs and stuff, and flirt with him."

"I'm not gonna flirt with him. Besides, I don't even know if he's into guys."

"Yuuri, you said he gets his lunch from you every day–"

"Not  _ every _ day. I'm not open on Mondays."

"Every day that you're there, then. Trust me, Yuuri, you're an amazing chef but that guy is not there for the food."

"No."

Phichit huffs in disappointment. "Okay, well at least tell me what he looks like."

Yuuri sighs. No harm in doing that, right? "Um, he's tall, really built, like with a great ass..."

"That you stare at every time he walks away with his order?"

No comment. Guilty as charged. "He's got silver hair, and the most amazing blue eyes–"

"Wait wait wait," Phichit interrupts. "Silver hair? Yuuri, I didn't know you were into old dudes!"

"He's not old!" Yuuri yells this last so loud that hot customer guy looks up from his meal in concern. Yuuri smiles weakly at him and retreats further into the cart. "He's not old," Yuuri repeats, more quietly. "He's, like in his 20s or something. His hair's just this silver-blonde color."

"Yuuri, pleeeease take a picture?" Phichit whines. "I need to see this hotness for myself."

"No way. Besides, he's leaving now." He peeks outside, watching as the hot guy cleans up the remnants of his meal, separating recyclables and compostables and tossing them into the appropriate bins. He glances at Yuuri trying to hide in the depths of the cart and waves, flashing the most brilliant smile. Yuuri sighs. Yeah, he's mooning. Totally mooning.

"Fine. I guess I'll just have to come out and visit you in Portland so I can see for myself," Phichit says.

"You think Celestino would let you have some time off? It'd be so much fun to have you here." Yuuri says, glad for the change of subject.

"Maybe just for a few days. I'm saving my main vacation time for a trip back home." Yuuri suppresses a little twinge of jealousy. Phichit's job as sous-chef at one of the most exclusive restaurants in Detroit means he makes enough money to afford the plane ticket back to Thailand once a year or so. Yuuri, on the other hand, hasn't been back to Hasetsu in over five years. Although his profits have gone up in the last several months since moving to a better location, Yuuri still doesn't quite make enough to afford the trip home. Even with the extra money from his night job.

"Okay, well let me know when you're coming," Yuuri says. "We'll have a blast!"

"Yeah we will! You can take me to all the cool hipster places. Like that place with the weird doughnuts."

"Ugh, Phichit, only tourists go to Voodoo Doughnuts. I'll take you to the  _ good _ doughnut place."

"It's a deal. Okay, I gotta go get ready for dinner service. Talk to you later!"

 

* * *

 

"How was lunch?" Chris calls out as Victor walks past.

Victor pauses for a moment, leaning against the doorframe of the marketing director's office. "Fine," he says. "How was your trip?"

"Wonderful," Chris replies. "Interest in the new line is high, and investors are jumping on board left and right. We're the new hottest thing, you know?" Chris gives him a serious look. "Of course, the investors would have preferred it if the CEO was at the meetings, too."

"Sorry," Victor says, but he doesn't really mean it. "I had too much work to do here."

"I've been telling you that you need to hire another designer," Chris says. "You can't keep doing everything yourself, Victor. You're running yourself ragged."

"I've got it handled," Victor says. "Besides, Mila's doing a good job."

"Mila's great, but she's an intern and only part-time. You need more help than that."

Victor waves dismissively at Chris and moves on towards his own office. It's an old argument between them, but Victor's built this company from the ground up and he isn't ready to give up control over something as important to him as design.

As he enters his office he tells his assistant Georgi to hold all calls. Makkachin's already curled up under his desk, ready for a long afternoon snooze. Victor envies his dog. There's nowhere else he'd rather be right now than in his own bed, the covers pulled over his head to shut out the world.

If someone had told Victor six years ago that he'd be sitting behind a desk in an office, worrying about shareholders and marketing, he'd never have believed it. Six years ago he'd been a star decathlete, a sure bet to bring home gold for the Russian track and field team in the 2012 Olympics. But a devastating injury during the qualification rounds ended his career then and there. A design flaw in his spikes caused one of the shoes to give out during a high jump approach, and the resulting ACL tear was too great for even surgery to correct. During the long recovery process Victor had started researching, trying to find a way to improve the design to prevent injury. He'd taken an internship at Nike, leaving St. Petersburg behind for Portland, Oregon, and eventually started his own company, VN Athletic Footwear. It had been a small business to start, just Victor and a few friends from his university days, making his redesigned high jump spikes. Soon word got out and he was designing shoes for other sports, with an emphasis on injury prevention.

Then two years ago a popular Trail Blazers player had Victor design shoes for him after an ankle injury, and suddenly everyone wanted shoes like that. Victor had been reluctant at first to sell a mass-market version of the shoes, but Chris convinced him. "With the money that you'll make you can expand the R&D department, make even better shoes to help athletes."

Now the company's just gone public and expectations are high. VNs are the hottest shoes on the market, and they're barely able to keep up with demand. Between coddling shareholders and trying to come up with fresh design ideas to keep customers interested, Victor's barely had time to work on the side of the business he's most passionate about; designing better shoes for athletes. He's stressed, exhausted, and if he's completely honest with himself, depressed.

And to top it all off, the cutie at the Japanese food cart ignored his attempts to flirt. Again.

"Well, Makka, at least I'm getting good meals out of it," Victor says as he slumps down in his desk chair.

 

* * *

 

Whoever said Portland is always rainy has obviously never been here in the summer, Yuuri thinks. It's the tail end of August and it's far too warm for even Hasetsu-born-and-raised Yuuri. As much as he loves running the food cart, he does miss working in an air-conditioned kitchen. At least he's done for the day, leaving Food-Topia Katsuki in the capable, if overenthusiastic, hands of Kenjiro, the teenager he's hired to run the cart in the evenings. He's a good kid, if a little prone to hero-worship, and he's decided Yuuri is his hero. "I'm going to go to culinary school just like you did and become a great chef like you!" he'd said when Yuuri had interviewed him. Yuuri hadn't had the heart to point out that this "great chef" had bombed out of the restaurant industry within a year of graduating.

"If you're not too busy, do an inventory tonight and list everything that we're running low on," Yuuri tells Kenjiro now.

"Will do, sir!" Kenjiro says brightly. "Have a nice night!" Yuuri nods and shoulders his bag. It's been a long day, and he'll be glad to get home and shower before he starts his night job. He waves at Leo and Guang-Hong who run the Inferno cart (Chinese/Mexican fusion, specializing in  _ very  _ spicy food), and smiles at the sullen teenager behind the counter at Plisetsky's Piroshkis (Kenjiro dubbed him "Yurio" because he said it was too confusing having two Yuris around). Yurio ignores him as usual. As Yuuri gets to the street Otabek is just pulling up on his motorcycle, there to pick up another delivery from one of the carts. He and Yuuri exchange nods, and then Yuuri heads down the street to deposit the day's take at the bank, before finally catching the Max home.

It's been another profitable day for Food-Topia, Yuuri thinks as he finds a place to stand on the crowded train, but it hadn't always been that way. After his failure back in Detroit Yuuri had moved here to Portland and sunk all his savings into the food cart, hoping that the recipes he'd learned to cook from his mother back at the onsen in Hasetsu would turn out to be popular here. At first, though, he'd been wrong.

 

* * *

 

He'd been on the phone with Phichit, telling his best friend (and former roommate) about how poorly things were going. "I hardly get any customers, and the cart's been broken into three times this month," Yuuri said. "I'm thinking I'm going to have to find a second job, but I don't know what I can do that will fit around the hours I have the cart open."

"I've got an idea," Phichit said, "and it'll be easy. All you have to do is talk on the phone."

"What, like a telemarketer? I'm not sure I want to do something like that. I hate getting those kind of calls. I wouldn't want to be the person making them."

"Nope," Phichit said. "Do you remember that guy back in culinary school, the one who almost dropped out because he couldn't afford the tuition?"

"You mean Brian, the one who... Phichit!" Yuuri said, shocked. "A phone sex line? There's no way I could do something like that."

"Sure you can," Phichit said. "You talk to me on the phone all the time."

"Yeah, but I don't convince you to have an orgasm while I'm at it."

"You sure about that?" Phichit laughs. "You have a sexy voice, you know."

"Oh my god," Yuuri said, slumping to the floor of the cart. "I can't believe you just said that."

"I'm kidding, I'm kidding. I just think you'd be good at it, is all. And it'd be easy money!"

"I don't need money that badly. Things'll pick up soon."

"Just keep it in mind, okay?" Phichit said. "I'll email you the link to their website, just in case." Yuuri shrugged, forgetting for a moment that Phichit couldn't actually see him. "But seriously, Yuu, hang in there, okay? You know Celestino would let you have your old job back if you wanted."

"I know," Yuuri said. "I just... I can't, you know?" He couldn't go back to the site of his failure, couldn't face the shame.

Phichit sighed. "Yuuri, you know Celestino's forgiven you for that, right? Besides, you should see the new pastry chef he hired! He keeps drawing his initials in chocolate sauce and saying 'it's JJ style!' every time he sends a plate out for service."

"That's still not as bad as... as what I did," Yuuri said. Not as bad as almost giving half of Ford's top executives sodium poisoning because he'd been too rushed and nervous to notice just how much salt he'd used in a sauce. He'd only thought to taste it after the plates had been served, which was how he'd ended up rushing into the banquet room and frantically grabbing plates away from the servers. It might not have been so bad if he hadn't somehow managed to spill an entire carafe of red wine all over the CEO's suit. Her expensive, cream-colored, designer suit. Celestino himself had come out of the kitchen to do damage control, offering to pay for all cleaning charges. Meanwhile Yuuri, sure he was going to be fired, had locked himself away in one of the pantries with a couple of bottles of champagne and proceeded to get blissfully drunk. In the end he hadn't been fired, but after that Yuuri couldn't face the shame of going back and had quit.

"Yuuri, you've got to stop beating yourself up about that," Phichit said. "Anyway, think about the phone thing, okay? Just until business gets better."

But Yuuri had been sure that it was something he couldn't do. There was no way that he, of all people, could make money by talking sexy. But after counting up another day's meager profits, then coming home to an eviction notice on his apartment door, Yuuri started to think that maybe it wasn't such a bad idea.

Maybe desperate times did call for desperate measures.

 

* * *

 

"Victor, are you still here?" Victor looks up just as Chris pokes his head through the doorway. "It's past seven. Georgi said you got in before six this morning!"

Victor sighs. "I took an hour lunch break," he tries to defend himself.

Chris pushes the door the rest of the way open and sits on the edge of the desk. " _ Chérie _ , you can't keep pushing yourself like this. You look terrible."

"Thanks," Victor says wryly.

"I mean it," Chris says. "Go home, get some rest, do something nice for yourself. When was the last time you went on a date?"

"What does that have to do with anything?"

"Just answer the question."

"I don't know, maybe April, I think?" Although truth be told it hadn't been much of a date. The guy had been good-looking enough, but so boring that Victor had nodded off halfway through dinner.

"Of what year?" Chris says.

"Fine. Point taken. But Chris, I don't have time right now to meet someone."

"Hmm, I've got a better idea. Let me see your laptop for a minute." Chris hums to himself for a moment as he taps on the keys, then turns the device back to Victor.

Victor stares at the website Chris has brought up. "Cupid's Loveline? What is that, a phone sex service? Chris, I don't think 1-900-Lusty-Ladies is really my sort of thing."

"Please, give me some credit," Chris smirks.  "It's classier than that. When you call, ask for Eros. I think he'll definitely be to your taste."

"You've used this service before? Aren't you a happily married man?"

"They do three-way calls," Chris says with a wink. "It's a lot of fun for the Mr. and I when I'm out of town on business." He looks at his watch. "Speaking of, he's probably here already to take me out to dinner." Giving Victor a mock-stern look, Chris taps the edge of the laptop. "Do yourself a favor and give it a try, will you?"

"Yeah, maybe," Victor says doubtfully.

"And Victor?" Chris says as he's about to leave.

"Yes?"

"GO HOME."

Victor laughs. He probably will, soon. If nothing else Makkachin needs his dinner. He looks again at the website Chris left up on his laptop. Maybe it wouldn't hurt to give it a try.

 

* * *

 

After a nice cool shower to wash off the sweat and cooking smells of the day, Yuuri throws on a pair of loose shorts (it's still too hot in his apartment for a shirt, even with the fan propped in the window). He settles down on the couch with his laptop and headset, ready to start his evening job.

It turns out Phichit was right. Working as a phone sex operator really isn't that difficult. Sure, Yuuri felt awkward at first, but without the embarrassment of having to talk to someone face-to-face he's found it easier to put on a different personality, one who can flirt with ease and talk dirty in a way that would normally leave him a blushing, stuttering mess. It helps that the service he ended up working for (not the one that Phichit gave him the link to) is one of the better operations, and they believe in protecting their workers. If a caller becomes inappropriate or creepy he's allowed to hang up on them and can request that he not get calls from that person again. The calls are recorded, so that if there is a problem the dispatcher can review them; if they agree that the caller is inappropriate they can block that person from ever using the service again.

But besides that, Yuuri finds that he actually likes the work. It's interesting to try and figure out what each caller needs; yes, often it's sexy talk, but sometimes they also just want someone to listen to them. And Yuuri's a good listener.

It doesn't hurt that the money's good, too. After a change of location and a few good reviews Food-Topia is doing well enough that Yuuri doesn't need the extra income, but it's nice to have the cushion in case things get bad again.

Settling his headset on, he contacts the dispatcher. "Eros here, checking in."

 

* * *

 

"Oh yeah baby, that's so good, just like that." Yuuri's browsing through his favorite restaurant supply site, trying to decide which model of sous vide cooker he wants to get. The guy on the other end of the line is down to the grunting and heavy breathing phase, so he should finish soon. "Ooooh, yeah, that's so hot," Yuuri moans into the headset. Well, not too hot anyway. That's the point of sous vide. It's not a traditional style of Japanese cooking, but Yuuri's been wanting to experiment. He peeks at the timer running in the corner of the screen. His caller has a couple of minutes left in his block of time, so unless the guy wants to buy an extension he'll have to finish soon. Normally Yuuri would draw it out a little longer, but this should be his last call of the night and he feels pretty done for the day. He decides to go for the gold. "Ah, ah, yes! Oh yeah, fuck me so hard! Just like that! Oh fuck yes, I'm coming!" Coming to the conclusion that the SmartVide is probably the best model for him. There's a loud groan from the other end of the line, and Yuuri knows his work is done.

After a moment or two of panting, the caller manages to collect himself. "Eros, you always make me feel so good," he says.

"Mmm, you know it," Yuuri says. "Same time next week, Bob?"

"Actually it'll probably be Thursday. My kid's got a big soccer game next Wednesday," Bob says.

"Okay, sounds good," Yuuri says. "Wish her luck for me!" He bookmarks the page with the cooker he wants, and is about to disconnect for the night when a tone alerts him to a call from the dispatcher. Yuuri taps the button on his headset to answer. "What's up, Sue?" he asks.

"Eros, do you mind taking one more call tonight? I've got a first timer and he's asking for you specifically."

Yuuri glances at the clock. He can probably manage one more call before he gets too sleepy. "Yeah, I can. Go ahead and put him through." One more call means he's that much closer to being able to buy that sous vide machine. Maybe he can even splurge for the deluxe model. He waits for the click and the tone that tells him the caller is live. "Hey there," Yuuri says in his best sexy voice, "I'm Eros. What can I call you?"

There's a slight pause and a nervous laugh, before: "Um, Ivan?"

"Mmmm, that's a nice name, Ivan. There's a couple of things we need to go over, and then we can start talking about what you'd like."

"Okay," Ivan says.

"First, do you know the stoplight colors for safe words?"

"Yes," Ivan says. "Red for stop, yellow for discuss, green for go."

Yuuri pauses for a moment. There's something about Ivan's voice, his accent, that sounds so familiar. Probably it's just that he sounds like another caller Yuuri's had. He shakes it off and continues. "Okay, good. If we're talking about something that makes you uncomfortable, you can use those words to let me know. And the same goes for me." When new clients first register for the service they have to fill out a form on the website that lists any major kinks; if Ivan had checked any that were on Yuuri's no-go list the dispatcher wouldn't have put him through. "I see that you've paid for a 40 minute block of time. When it gets close to the end of that I'll ask you if you want an extension, okay?"

"Okay," Ivan says.

"Good. Now, before we start do you have any questions?"

"Um... it's just that I saw on the website that the calls are recorded," Ivan says.

"It's okay. No one listens to the calls, those recordings are just there to keep both of us safe. As long as you don't break the rules, there'll be no problem." The main rules being: no asking for personal information; if an operator says something's off limits, no discussing it; and no asking for freebies. "You don't have to worry, Ivan, your privacy is protected. Neither the dispatcher or I have access to your personal information. And anything we talk about is just between you and me, okay?"

"Okay," Ivan says, and Yuuri can hear the relief in his voice.

"Mmmm, that's good," Yuuri says. "Now we can get to the fun stuff. What sort of things do you want me to talk about?"

"Oh," Ivan says. "I guess... I'm not really sure? I've never called one of these lines before, so I don’t know where to start."

"Well, what do you like? What's something that gets you excited?"

There's silence on the other end of the line. Sometimes newbies are like this; too shy to ask for what they really want. Truth be told, Yuuri prefers that type over the ones who get really specific right off. "Ivan? Are you still there?" Yuuri asks after a moment.

"Yeah, I'm just... no one's ever asked me what I like before. I've always just gone along with what my partners wanted."

Yuuri thinks that sounds kind of sad. "Well, this is all about you. Anything you want, any kind of kinks or fetishes, it's okay to talk about to me. This is about you and your pleasure."

"Oh, okay." There's another pause. Yuuri waits. "Um, I guess I'm still not sure what to ask for," Ivan says after a moment.

"How about I meet you halfway, then," Yuuri says. "I'll give you some options, and you can tell me if you like them or not."

"Okay," Ivan says.

"Mmmm, good," Yuuri says. He closes out of his browser. He was going to look for some new knives, but he can sense that Ivan is the type of caller that needs his full attention. He's glad Ivan's booked a 40 minute block; it seems like they're going to need all that time. "So would you like it if I gave you a blowjob?" Yuuri asks. It's a pretty safe bet to start. He's not sure if he's ever had a male caller that didn't like that.

"That... that'd be good," Ivan says. Yuuri can tell he likes the idea, but it's not the Thing. Over the course of the year that Yuuri's been doing this job he's found that most callers have a Thing. One thing that really gets them going. It's often something that they can't get anywhere else.

"Or maybe you'd just like to fuck me," Yuuri says. Another safe bet.

"Mmmhmmm..."

"Am I a bad boy? Do I need to be spanked?" Yuuri asks.

"Um..."

"Or maybe you're the one who needs a spanking," Yuuri tries.

"Oh. Oh yessssss," comes the breathy reply. Yuuri smiles. Bingo.

"So you want to get your ass smacked until you come?"

"Oh god, yes." Yuuri can hear it in his voice, Ivan's definitely getting worked up.

"Mmmm, tell me, Ivan, are you somewhere that you're comfortable?"

"Yeah, I'm at home. In my bedroom."

"And what are you wearing?"

"Oh, just a t-shirt and some sweats," Ivan replies.

"I want you to take them off for me," Yuuri says. He hears the rustle of fabric over the line.

"Okay, I'm naked now," Ivan says. "Um, what about you?"

"Mmmm, yeah me too. If there's something you want me to wear, though, let me know. I've got lots of special things I can wear for you." As long as he's into someone wearing an apron stained with tonkatsu sauce, that is. "Okay Ivan, now I want you to lie on your back, and lift your legs up in the air. Can you do that for me?"

"Yeah," Ivan says, grunting a little as he gets into position. Yuuri can already tell Ivan's feeling more relaxed, the more Yuuri takes control. Definitely a bit of a sub, Ivan is. If he becomes a regular caller they can explore that a bit more.

"That's good," Yuuri says. "I want you to reach around and give your ass a good smack, now." There's a satisfying sound of flesh on flesh as Ivan does as he's told. "Did you like that, bad boy?" Yuuri asks.

"Yessss," Ivan moans. "Oh, yes."

"You want more? Do it again," Yuuri says. As he listens to Ivan spanking himself, Yuuri shifts on the couch. Oh. He's getting hard. It's not something that usually happens with callers, at least not any more. When he first started this job he'd masturbated right along with his customers, but after a while he got too jaded to bother. But there's something about Ivan that's really getting Yuuri going tonight. He does have a bit of a dominant streak himself that he usually doesn't have the chance to indulge in with callers. Or maybe it's the sexy accent. It's Russian, Yuuri thinks, and weirdly familiar.

Then it hits him. Ivan sounds a whole lot like the gorgeous guy with the silver hair that's a regular at the food cart. Could it be? Yuuri thinks. Nah. No way a guy that hot would need to use a phone sex line. Besides, what are the odds that he'd end up asking for Eros? The service isn't locally based, with operators and callers all over the country. Yuuri just chalks it up to coincidence.

"Eros?" Ivan interrupts his thoughts. "I'm–what do you want me to do now?"

Yuuri shakes off the distraction and focuses back on his caller. "Did that feel good?" Yuuri asks. "Are you hard?"

"Yeah, I am," comes the breathy reply.

"Good," Yuuri says. "Do you have some lube nearby?" When Ivan confirms that he does, Yuuri continues, "I want you to start stroking yourself. But you're not allowed to come until I tell you to. Understood?"

"Yes," Ivan says. Yuuri can hear more rustling, and the sound of the lube cap popping open. In the meantime Yuuri shucks off his shorts and grabs his own lube from the side table. No reason he can't enjoy himself, too. He pulls off his glasses and sets them on the coffee table. "How are you doing, Ivan?" he asks as he drips some lube into his hand. "Is everything green?"

"Yeah," Ivan says. "Green."

"Good, you're being really good for me," Yuuri says. He moans softly as he starts to stroke his own cock. Damn, but that feels good.

"Eros?" Ivan asks. "Is this–are you feeling good too?"

"Oh yes," Yuuri replies. "You're making me so hot." And for once it's not a lie.

They go on for several minutes, breathy moans and groans crossing over the phone line between them, Yuuri praising and encouraging Ivan in his efforts. Yuuri pauses to grab the lube again, slicking up his fingers before teasing at his entrance. "Oh, fuck yeah," Yuuri moans as one finger slips inside. Between Ivan's pants and moans and that accent (oh god that  _ accent _ ) and picturing the gorgeous guy from the food cart, Yuuri's so damn hot. When he's ready he adds another finger, slowly pumping them in and out.

"Eros," Ivan nearly whimpers, "please, I'm so close."

"Ah, not until I tell you," Yuuri says. "I get to come first. Those are my rules, understand?" He curls his fingers inside himself to find the right spot, shuddering in pleasure when he hits it.

"Oh, god, please, please, please," Ivan begs. Don't worry, Yuuri thinks, I'm not going to last much longer either. Ivan's reduced to babbling now, just mutters of 'please, please' and 'oh, fuck' interspersed with his moans.

A few more firm strokes and Yuuri digs his heels into the edge of the couch, arching his back as he comes, hard, his vision whiting out with the force of it. "Ivan," he pants when he comes back to himself, "come for me. Now."

"Ah, ah, ah, YESSSSSS!" Ivan cries out as he comes. Yuuri smiles lazily in satisfaction. Definitely one of his best calls in a long time. After a few moments he hears Ivan's breathing start to slow.

"Are you doing okay?" Yuuri asks.

"Mmmm, yes," Ivan replies. "Very green." Yuuri chuckles at that.

"That was so good," Yuuri says. "You were so good for me."

"Eros, thank you so much," Ivan says. "I can't tell you how much I needed that."

"My pleasure," Yuuri says. Which is the literal truth. He squints at the timer on his laptop. It's a little hard to see without his glasses, but it looks like Ivan's paid time is just about to expire. "Ivan, I think your 40 minutes is about to be up. Do you want an extension?"

"No, I'm okay now. But... can I... would it be okay if I called you again?"

"Of course," Yuuri says. "I'm usually available most evenings. Just check with the dispatcher, they'll let you know if I'm on."

"Okay. Really, though, thank you again."

"You're very welcome. Goodnight, Ivan."

"Goodnight, Eros."

Yuuri grabs some tissues off the table and wipes off his messy hands before disconnecting his headset. He's definitely gonna need another shower. Yuuri grins to himself as he heads to the bathroom. He really does hope Ivan becomes a regular.

 

* * *

 

Victor lies back on his bed after ending the call. He really should go clean up, but right now he just feels too deliciously relaxed. He'd been skeptical at first, but Eros had unlocked something in him he didn't even know was there. All his previous partners had expected him to be the dominant one, the one in control, but letting Eros tell him what to do had made him feel so amazing. Victor closes his eyes, and he hears that sultry voice again. And if he's picturing the owner of that voice with fluffy dark hair and beautiful brown eyes just like a certain food cart chef, well, no one has to know that.

Victor smiles. He should probably give Chris a raise.

 


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Victor continues to flirt (unsuccessfully), Yuuri continues to be oblivious, and Ivan becomes one of Eros' regulars.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What? An update? Well, that only took... five months? *hangs head in shame*  
> Thank you so much to everyone who commented on the first chapter and I'm so sorry it's taken this long to update! I swear, the next chapter won't take so long (and I'm planning an epilogue now, too–a smutty, smutty epilogue).

When Victor arrives at the office the next day (two hours later than normal) he does so with a spring in his step and a smile on his face that doesn’t go unnoticed.

“You’re in a good mood today, Victor,” Chris says, giving him an appraising look. “You called, didn’t you?”

“I did,” Victor says.

“And?”

Victor can’t help the delighted laugh he lets out. “Let’s just say... wow. Amazing.”

“I knew it,” Chris says with a smug grin.

“Chris, it’s like he knew what I wanted–no, what I  _ needed– _ before I did.”

Chris shrugs. “They’re professionals. It’s what they do. I imagine they get pretty good at reading people.”

“Yeah, but–” Victor stops short of saying that he and Eros had a  _ connection. _ He knows Chris is right, and he doesn’t really want to explain the revelation he had last night. “I suppose that’s it,” Victor says instead. “At any rate, I think I owe you a raise.”

Chris bursts out laughing. “If I knew that was all it would take, I would have given you that number ages ago! Come on, Mr. Chipper, we’ve got a teleconference meeting with stockholders this morning.”

“Ugh, do I have to?” Victor can already feel his good mood deflating at the thought.

“Yes, you do. Mila brought doughnuts this morning, though.”

“Blue Star?”

“But of course!”

 

* * *

 

“Okay now curl your fingers–that’s right, just like that.”

“Ugh, I know how to use a knife, piggy.”

Yuuri sighs at the teenager. “You’re the one who asked me to show you how I slice vegetables so thin,” he says. “You have to curl your fingers under so you don’t get cut.”

“I’m tough. I can handle it!”

“Yeah but I don’t think your customers can handle blood in their piroshkis, Yurio.”

“That’s not my name!” Yurio tosses the knife down in disgust. “I gotta go help my grandpa, anyway. It looks like he’s getting busy.”

Yuuri peers out the cart window, but the only ‘customer’ he sees near Plisetsky’s Piroshkis is Otabek, sitting at one of the picnic tables and looking at something on his phone. Probably waiting for a delivery request to come in. “Sure, okay,” Yuuri says. “Come back if you need help with anything else.”

“Pfft, whatever.”

“So what’s the special today?” Yuuri looks up from cleaning up the mess Yurio made to see a familiar face. Blue eyes, silver-blonde hair, devastatingly gorgeous. “Oh,” Yuuri says, adjusting his glasses and blinking, “It’s, um, gyūdon–beef and onions with a poached egg, over rice.”

“Sounds  _ vkusno,” _ gorgeous guy says. Hearing the Russian word suddenly reminds Yuuri of his caller from last night. Ivan. He suddenly remembers how he pictured the very man standing in front of him while he got off, and his face turns even redder than it already was from being inside the cart on a hot day.

The guy seems to notice Yuuri getting flustered, mistaking it for something else. “That’s a compliment,” he says. “I’ll have the special.”

“Um, okay, that’ll be nine dollars,” Yuuri says. As hot guy (why, oh why don’t I ask customers for names instead of giving them numbers, Yuuri thinks) pulls cash out of his wallet his dog suddenly puts his paws up on the counter, sniffing the air interestedly.

“Makkachin! No! Bad dog!” The customer grabs his dog by the collar and pulls him back. “I’m so sorry,” he says. “He’s usually much better behaved than this.”

“It’s okay,” Yuuri says, laughing. “He probably smells the beef cooking. My dog would do the same thing, if he weren’t too small.”

“You have a dog?” Makkachin’s person asks interestedly.

“Um, yeah, but he’s back home in Japan, with my family. He looks just like your dog, only he’s a toy instead of a standard.”

“He sounds adorable. You must miss him.”

“Yeah,” Yuuri says. He does. He wishes he could bring Vicchan here to live, but the trip from Japan would be much too hard on him at his age. “Um, anyway, I’ll have your order up in a bit. Here’s your number.”

Hot guy peers at the tiny slip of paper. “Sixty-nine, huh?” he says with a grin. “That’s my lucky number.”

“Oh, that’s neat,” Yuuri says. He thinks it’s kind of a weird lucky number. There’s the tiniest flash of an expression–disappointment?–on the customer’s face, before he turns and heads over to one of the tables to wait.

It’s only as Yuuri’s just about finished with the order of gyūdon that he gets it. Oh. Sixty-nine.  _ Oh.  _ He peeks out the cart window at where the guy is now sitting and talking animatedly to his dog. Was he–did he–could Phichit be right? Was the guy flirting with him?

Nah. Couldn’t be, Yuuri thinks. He catches a glimpse of his reflection in the closed side of the cart window. Hair sticking to his sweaty face, apron and shirt stained with all kinds of food. No. No way a guy who looks like that would be flirting with a guy who looks like him. Maybe sixty-nine really is a lucky number in Russia.

 

* * *

 

Victor stares at the phone in his hand. He really shouldn’t call again. It’s just... the day had started so well. But between the long, boring meeting before lunch and getting bogged down with the designs for the new line in the afternoon, he’s wrung out and exhausted again. And then there was lunch itself.

“I told him sixty-nine was my lucky number. I actually said that  _ out loud.” _ Victor sighs and flops back on the bed. “He must think I’m a sleazeball.” He stares at the ceiling, telling himself again that he really shouldn’t call. He’ll seem desperate and needy. He snorts at himself. He  _ is  _ desperate and needy. Eros made him feel so good last night–so  _ right– _ and he craves that again. Craves someone to take control and lift the weight of responsibility off his shoulders.

One more call won’t hurt, right?

 

* * *

 

Yuuri leans back on the couch, using a damp cloth to clean up the mess on his stomach. He wasn’t wrong in his suspicion that Ivan would become a regular; this is his sixth call in as many nights. Not that Yuuri’s complaining, of course. Although he does wonder if he’s going to have to start pacing himself if Ivan’s going to call every night. After the first call he hadn’t really meant to join in again, but listening to Ivan come apart at his command just gets him going. Maybe it’s the way he’s so responsive, so pleased to follow Yuuri’s every instruction. (Or maybe it’s the way he sounds like a certain regular customer at Yuuri’s other job, but no, he’s not going to think about that.)

He adjusts his headset from where it’s come askew as he listens to the other man’s breathing begin to slow. “Ivan?” he says. “How are you doing?” Yuuri frowns when he doesn’t get a reply. Ivan’s usually really good about responding, letting Yuuri know that he’s okay with everything they’ve done. “Ivan?” Yuuri says again. “Are you still with me?”

He hears a heavy sigh from the other end of the line. “I’m here,” Ivan says finally.

“Are you okay?” Yuuri asks.

“I’m okay,” Ivan says. Yuuri feels a bit of relief, but he’s still concerned.

“Ivan, you remember that if anything we’re doing makes you at all uncomfortable you need to tell me, right?”

“It’s not that,” Ivan says. “It was–you were amazing, as usual. It was really good. It’s just...” he trails off.

“Just what?” Yuuri says. “It’s okay–whatever it is, you can tell me. You know I won’t judge.”

“It’s... it’s not you. It’s nothing to do with this. I don’t want to bother you with it.”

“Ivan, it’s okay,” Yuuri says. “I don’t mind. Sometimes it just helps to talk it out, you know?”

There’s a click on the other end of the line, and Yuuri’s worried that Ivan’s hung up. But then he speaks again, his voice clearer than before. “If you’re sure you don’t mind,” Ivan says. Yuuri realizes he must have taken the phone off speaker.

“Of course I don’t,” Yuuri says. “You’d be surprised how many people just want to talk sometimes.”

“Oh,” Ivan says. “I never really thought about that.” He’s silent for a moment again. Yuuri waits, letting him work himself up to whatever he needs to talk about. “Um,” Ivan begins, “it’s just... I guess it’s just that I’ve been so tired, lately. The only time I feel like I’ve got any energy is, well, when I’m talking to you.” Ivan laughs a little at that. “I guess it’s mostly work,” he continues. “I’ve just got so much weighing on me right now. There’s so many people depending on me, and I don’t want to let them down.”

“I know the feeling,” Yuuri says.

“You do?”

“Yeah. I used to have a job like that. I was so worried about failing that I couldn’t focus on anything else.”

“So you just quit?” Ivan asks.

“Something like that,” Yuuri says. They’re verging on the ‘no personal information’ rule, so he tries to steer the conversation back to Ivan. “Is there anyone who can help you at work? Someone who can take some of the responsibility?”

“Not right now,” Ivan sighs. “I’m supposed to be hiring someone else to take some of my workload. But it’s... I guess it’s hard for me to let someone else take over. It’s my company, I built it from the ground up and...”

“And it’s hard to let go,” Yuuri says.

“Yeah. Is that stupid?”

“No,” Yuuri says. “I think it’s pretty normal.” He’s beginning to understand why Ivan enjoys being dominated. If he has to be so responsible most of the time it must be pretty freeing to let someone else take control, even if it’s only a phone sex worker. “It’s probably pretty tough to trust anyone else with something so important to you.”

“I suppose that’s what I need to learn to do. Trust someone else.” Ivan chuckles. “You know, you’re good at this. You should be a counselor or something.”

“Nah. I’m just a good listener, is all.”

 

* * *

 

“Mmm, Makkachin, what should we get for lunch today?” Makkachin boofs and automatically heads toward the Food-Topia cart. “My thoughts exactly,” Victor says.

He’s feeling pretty good, his talk last night with Eros having really put things in perspective. He’d spent the morning going over the résumés of potential design assistants, picking out several and having Georgi contact them for interviews. He hadn’t even grumbled (much) when Chris said he’d scheduled another teleconference for that afternoon. The weather’s even cooled off enough to be comfortable. All in all, it’s a good day.

Until he gets to the cart and there’s no one there.

Victor peeks in the open window. “Hello? Anyone here?” No response. He looks around, but the cute chef is nowhere to be seen. Because of the teleconference he doesn’t have much time for lunch today. He doesn’t  _ want  _ to get something from one of the other carts, but if he doesn’t eat something he’s going to be in a rotten mood during the meeting later. He turns to go check out the other offerings–

–and runs smack into someone. Who stumbles and almost falls backwards, except Victor instinctively reaches out and grabs him by the arms.

“Oh my god I’m so sorry I wasn’t looking where I was going I didn’t see–”

“No, no, it’s my fault, I should have looked before I turned...” Victor trails off when the guy looks up and he’s met by the most beautiful pair of brown eyes, behind a pair of blue-framed glasses that have been knocked askew by the impact. Oh. “Hi,” Victor says.

“Um, hi?” food cart cutie says. He’s shorter than Victor by a few inches, and this close Victor can’t help but notice that his lips are a little chapped. Victor wonders what it would be like to kiss him.

But then cutie steps back, and Victor lets go of his arms. “I’m really sorry,” he says again as he adjusts his glasses, “I was looking at my phone instead of where I was going.” He laughs self-consciously. “I’ll, um, get out of your way.”

“You’re not at all in my way,” Victor says. On impulse he sticks out his hand. “I’m Victor, by the way.”

Cutie stares for a moment. “Oh. Oh! Sorry, I’m, um, Yuuri.” They shake hands.

“Yuuuuuuuri,” Victor says, trying it out. He likes the way it rolls off his tongue. “It’s very nice to meet you, Yuuri.”

“Ah, yes–I mean, nice to meet you too.” The cutie–Yuuri–laughs when he looks down at where Makkachin has now pushed his way between them, whining for attention. “And you,” he says, giving him a scruffle behind the ears.

“I’m really glad to see you!” Victor says. “I thought I was going to have to get lunch somewhere else today.”

“Oh, sorry,” Yuuri says, gesturing vaguely behind him. “Bathroom break.” He looks up again at Victor, tilting his head and squinting just a little and Victor’s pretty sure it’s the cutest thing he’s ever seen. “You still could,” he says. “Get lunch somewhere else, I mean. The other carts have great food.”

Victor shrugs. “I guess I just really like eating Japanese,” he says, with a wink. And then winces internally.

“Oh, okay. Um, give me a second to wash my doggy hands, and I’ll get your order.” He gives Makkachin another pet and then heads around the back of the cart.

“I ‘like eating Japanese’?” Victor mutters, shaking his head. “Why am I such a sleaze, Makkachin?”

Makkachin doesn’t answer.

 

* * *

 

Yuuri paces back and forth in front of his couch. He checks the time again, and it’s just after ten. He tells himself this is ridiculous, he’s got no right to be worried, he shouldn’t get this invested in a caller but... Ivan’s always been so punctual, and now he’s an hour late. Yuuri’s even turned down a couple of calls because he doesn’t want to be busy when Ivan calls, and now he’s worried that the dispatcher is going to suspect something. He yelps when he stubs his toe on the coffee table and gives up, flopping down on the couch. He should probably just sign off, obviously Ivan isn’t going to call tonight. He’s about to contact the dispatcher when he gets the tone over his headset that indicates an incoming call.

“Eros here.”

“Hey I’ve got one of your regulars on the line. Are you gonna take  _ this  _ call?” the dispatcher asks. “Because if not you should probably sign off.”

“No, it’s okay,” Yuuri says. “I’ll take it. Sorry about earlier, Rob, I was, um, not feeling well.”

“Uh huh, whatever,” the dispatcher says, and connects the call through.

“Hi Eros!” Yuuri hears from the other end of the line. He heaves a sigh of relief because it’s Ivan. “I’m so sorry I’m calling late, I got stuck at work.”

“Mmm, I see,” Yuuri says, slipping into his Eros persona. “You might have to be an especially good boy for me to make up for it.”

“Oh, yes, please,” Ivan says. “Please tell me what to do to make you happy.”

 

* * *

 

Victor’s curled up on the bed, relaxed and sated. It had been an especially good session with Eros, and much needed. The whole day had really been an emotional rollercoaster. He’d finally found out his food cart crush’s name, but then embarrassed himself with his sleazy attempts at flirting. (Not that Yuuri seemed to notice, either the flirting  _ or  _ the sleaze.) Then the teleconference meeting had been interminable, and after that he’d had to stay late trying to resolve a problem with a supplier. By the time he’d gotten home he found himself  _ needing  _ to talk to Eros, needing the emotional and physical release these calls provided.

“Mmmm, Ivan that was so good. You were so good for me,” Eros says now. Victor’s glad he always schedules enough time that he can chat with Eros at the end of their sessions. He needs it almost as much as he does the other part of the call. “So how are you feeling now?” Eros asks.

“Much better,” Victor says. “I had such a stressful day, but you always know how to make me feel good.”

“I’m glad,” Eros says, “but I want to let you know that you shouldn’t feel bad about calling late. Or, you know, not being able to call at all. Earlier that was just part of our roleplay, you understand?”

“Of course,” Victor says. He does know that. But aside from the sexual part of their calls he genuinely likes Eros. He’s kind, and easy to talk to. Victor knows that Eros can’t really be his friend, but it’s still nice to have someone to talk to who doesn’t have any expectations of him.

“So, bad day?” Eros asks.

“Kind of,” Victor says with a nervous laugh. “Okay, this makes me sound like a teenager, but...”

“Seriously, Ivan, it’s okay. I won’t laugh at you.”

“Okay. There’s–there’s this guy I like? And sometimes I think he’s interested, and other times he just seems oblivious. I mean, I’ve been flirting with him–really obviously–and he just ignores me. But sometimes I catch him looking at me, and I swear he’s interested, but he seems so shy. And, ugh, he’s just so cute, you know?” Victor sighs. “But then I get so flustered when I talk to him, and I end up saying the sleaziest things. He probably just thinks I’m a jerk. I should just give up.”

“Oh, Ivan, I’m sure he doesn’t think that about you. Like you said, he’s shy. It sounds like you’ve been talking to him for a while. Have you asked him out?”

“Um, well, no...” Victor doesn’t want to mention that he’d only just learned Yuuri’s name today. It feels... pathetic.

“Maybe you should try the direct approach,” Eros says. He laughs, but it’s gentle; Victor can tell he’s not making fun of him. “Keep it simple. Ask him to meet you for coffee, or dinner.”

“I guess I could do that,” Victor says. “I mean, what’s the worst that can happen, he turns me down?”

“Just believe in yourself,” Eros says. “You seem really charming and sweet to me. I’m sure once you really talk to him, he’ll see that.”

“I suppose,” Victor says, blushing at the compliment. “Too bad I can’t just date you,” he laughs.

“Ah–”

“I know, I know, it’s against the rules. Don’t worry, I was just kidding.”

“Of course,” Eros says. “Um, I’m sorry but your time is up. Do you want to buy an extension?”

“Oh no, that’s okay,” Victor says. “I’ll let you go. It’s getting pretty late. I’ll call tomorrow though!”

“Okay,” Eros says. “Goodnight, Ivan.”

After he disconnects Victor lies there for a while, staring up at the ceiling. Ask Yuuri out? Can he do that? But what do they have in common, other than food? Inviting an amazing chef out to a fancy restaurant almost seems like an insult. Victor sighs, getting up and pulling his clothes on. He needs to take Makkachin out for one more walk for the night.

It’s only when he’s clipping the leash on that it hits him. “Dogs!” he says out loud, and Makkachin’s ears perk up at his tone. “He likes dogs, Makka! He said he misses his own dog, right? I’ll ask him if he wants to go to the dog park with us! It’s perfect.” Makkachin wiggles in excitement. “Oh, sorry,” Victor says. “We’re not going to the park right now. Tomorrow, though!”

Tomorrow. Definitely.

 

* * *

 

Yuuri stares at his laptop after Ivan disconnects. This is ridiculous, he thinks to himself. He’s got no right to feel like this. Ivan’s just a caller, he pays Yuuri to talk to him. He’s got absolutely no reason to be jealous of some cute guy that Ivan likes. He pulls off his headset and throws it away a little too forcefully.

He’s not jealous. He’s not. He’s going to keep telling himself that until he believes it. He sighs and goes to pick up his headset.

 

* * *

 

“Come on Makkachin, it’s lunchtime!” Makkachin woofs happily and follows Victor out of the office. This is it, Victor tells himself. Today’s the day he’s going to ask Yuuri out. It’s perfect, he thinks. He’ll just casually mention something about taking Makkachin to the dog park later, and maybe would Yuuri like to go with him? And maybe out to eat afterwards? And then maybe back to Victor’s place... no, he’s getting ahead of himself. First things first.

As they round the corner and come in sight of the food cart pod, Victor’s stomach starts doing flips. What if Yuuri hates the idea? What if he’s not interested? What if he’s closed today? Victor pauses, closes his eyes for a moment, takes a deep breath. He can do this. Eros believes in him, so he should believe in himself.

“Out of the way, old man!” Victor staggers as someone bumps into him from behind. He steps aside in time to see a skinny blonde teenager go past him, lugging a box full of cabbages.

“Sorry,” Victor says. What a rude kid. He shakes it off and turns toward the Food-Topia cart. Which is not closed, but there is a line. (Okay, it’s two people, but he really doesn’t want to wait today.) Victor sighs and goes to stand behind them. He wills himself to be calm. It’s hard, though, because the couple in front of him seem to be asking about every single item on the menu. Yuuri is endlessly patient with them, explaining each dish and its contents. He looks up and catches Victor’s eye, and gives him the sweetest smile. “Be with you in a minute,” he says. Victor smiles helplessly back at him. He can wait. He can be patient. He can manage to not scream at the people in front of him to  _ just order something already it’s all good trust me I’ve tried everything on the menu just hurry up can’t you see I’ve got a cutie to ask on a date! _

“Thanks for waiting. What can I get for you?”

Victor glances at the menu, but he can’t quite focus on it. I should have it memorized by now with how many times I’ve been here in the last month, he thinks. “The special?” he says finally.

“I’m sorry, the udon was popular today. I’m all out.”

“Oh.” Victor scans the menu again. “Um, teriyaki?”

“Sure. Beef or chicken?”

“Chicken?”

“That’ll be eight-fifty.” Victor hands him the cash, stuffs a tip in the jar, and takes the number slip. (No sleazy comments today, good job Victor.) He’s about to open his mouth to try and start up a non-food related conversation, but Yuuri looks over Victor’s shoulder and says, “Hi, thanks for waiting, what can I get you?” Victor moves out of the way and sits down at one of the tables. Makkachin puts his head on Victor’s knee.

“I guess it’s just not my day today, is it boy?”

 

* * *

 

Yuuri’s glad when the unexpected lunch rush finally slows. He grabs his water bottle and takes a big drink, leaning against the counter. Of course the good thing about being busy is that it’s distracted him from stewing over his feelings about Ivan.

As he rests Yuuri looks over at the table where Victor is slowly finishing up his teriyaki. He’d looked so dejected when Yuuri had told him the special was sold out. Yuuri wishes he could give him something (as an apology,  _ not  _ just so he has an excuse to talk to him, obviously) but he doesn’t serve any dessert items. As he thinks, he spots Yurio walking by the open side door of the cart. “Hey, Yurio,” he calls out.

“Not my name,” Yurio snaps.

“Sorry, I mean Yuri.”

Yurio glares at him suspiciously. “What do you want?”

“Do you have any of those pastries left that your grandfather made this morning?”

“Maybe, why?”

Yuuri sighs. “Can I have a couple?”

“Don’t you get enough to eat as it is?” Yurio smirks at him. “Fine, whatever. But you have to pay for them.”

“Yeah, that’s fine,” Yuuri says. A few moments later Yurio is back and tosses a paper bag at Yuuri. “Grandpa said they’re on the house,” he says.

“Tell Kolya thanks,” Yuuri says. Yurio shrugs and walks away. Yuuri takes the bag and heads over to the picnic tables, where Victor has finished with his meal and is getting ready to leave. “Oh, hey, sorry about being out of the special today,” Yuuri says. “For some reason it was extra busy here today. I think there was some sort of big meeting going on nearby.”

Victor looks up and gives Yuuri that amazing smile. It should be illegal to be that pretty, Yuuri thinks. “It’s okay,” he says. “I’m glad you did good business today.”

“Thanks,” Yuuri says. He holds out the paper bag. “I wanted to give you this, to, um, apologize for running out of the special, and just to thank you for being a regular.” Victor blinks at him for a moment, then slowly reaches out and takes the bag. “I didn’t make them, or anything,” Yuuri says.

He peers into the bag and then smiles, his mouth almost making the shape of a heart. “Vatrushka!” he says delightedly. “My grandmother used to make these for me. I haven’t had them in years!”

Yuuri can’t help but grin back. “I’m glad you like them,” he says. “Kolya over at the piroshki cart makes them. They’re really good!”

Victor looks into the bag again. “You know,” he says, “there are two of them in here.”

“Oh, I think that’s all they had left,” Yuuri says.

“No, I mean that maybe you could share them with me? If you’re not too busy, that is.”

“Um...”

“Please?” Victor asks, and then honest-to-goodness  _ bats his eyelashes. _ It makes Yuuri laugh, and Victor laughs along with him.

“Okay,” Yuuri says, and sits down across from him, making sure he can still see the cart in case any more customers show up. He takes the pastry that Victor offers him and nibbles on it. He startles a little when he feels a weight on his knee and peeks under the table to see a very hopeful pair of eyes gazing back at him. “Well, hi there,” Yuuri says.

“Makka, don’t beg,” Victor says.

“It’s okay,” Yuuri says. “I’m used to it.”

“That’s right, you said you have a poodle too, didn’t you?”

“Yeah, back home,” Yuuri says. He suddenly remembers Phichit’s advice. It couldn’t hurt, right? “Um, do you want to see pictures?”

Victor’s face lights up. “Yes! Yes show me please!” Yuuri laughs at his enthusiasm and pulls his phone out of his pocket, scrolling to his ‘Vicchan’ folder. “These are the most recent,” he says, sliding the phone across the table. “My sister takes lots of pictures and sends them to me.”

“Oh my god he’s so cute,” Victor croons. “What’s his name?”

“Vicchan,” Yuuri says. “I wish I could bring him here to live with me, but he’s getting older and the trip would be hard on him.”

“It must be rough not having him around, though,” Victor says. “I know I’d be really sad if Makkachin was far away from me.”

Yuuri nods as he takes another bite of his pastry. “Yeah,” he says softly. “I miss him a lot.”

“You know,” Victor says, “I was going to take Makka to the dog park after work tonight. If you wanted, you could, um, maybe come with us?” Yuuri freezes with a bite of vatrushka still in his mouth. “I mean, I know it’s not the same as being having your dog with you,” Victor continues in a rush, “but maybe it’d be nice for you? I know Makka would love it.” He’s looking at Yuuri with such hopefulness.

Yuuri finally manages to swallow. He’s not asking me out–he couldn’t be–could he? He’s just being kind, Yuuri tells himself. He should say no, he shouldn’t take advantage just because the guy’s hot and his dog’s cute and Yuuri needs to distract himself from his growing obsession with Ivan and...

“Okay?” Yuuri says. “I’d–I think I’d like that.”

“Great! What time will you be free?”

“Um, about six?” Kenjiro starts at four, but if Yuuri’s going to do this he wants time to run home and take a shower.

“Perfect! I’ll be getting off work right around then. Shall I meet you here?”

“Yeah, that’ll be fine,” Yuuri says.

“Okay!” Victor says, getting up from the table. “It’s a date!”

 

**Author's Note:**

> TO BE CONTINUED
> 
> Come yell at me on [tumblr](https://rainyteawrites.tumblr.com/) until I get this finished!


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